He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: When Harley Quinn is poisoned, the Joker is forced to take care of her with tenderness and affection, two things the Clown Prince is not known for. With Harley's life hanging in the balance, the Joker is forced to consider whether he loves her enough to change for her, or not. Thanks to Clara F for the poisoning suggestion, and Starscream's Biglover for Joker's tender side ;-)
1. Chapter 1

**He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not**

"Puddin'?"

The Joker groaned, annoyed at being woken from a very sound slumber by Harley's irritating voice. He kept his eyes shut and ignored her, rolling over and pulling the pillow over his head.

"Go away," he muttered.

"Aw, but I got a surprise for you, puddin'!" exclaimed Harley. "C'mon, rise and shine!"

"I said go away!" he snapped.

"C'mon, puddin', please? I promise you'll like it."

Joker groaned again, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "All right, what…"

But he opened his eyes and ducked suddenly to see an arrow heading straight for him. It hit the clown's mouth that was the headboard to their bed instead and stuck there, quivering.

"Jesus Christ, Harley, you dumb broad, are you trying to kill me or what?! What the hell did you do that for?!" he demanded, rounding on her.

And it was then that he saw Harley's outfit. She was wearing nothing but a thin, white sheet, wrapped around her body, with wings attached at the back, and she carried a bow. She beamed at him and then came over to pull the arrow out of the headboard.

"It's just got a suction cup at the end, see, puddin'?" she said, showing it to him. "It's harmless."

"What the hell is all this?" he demanded. "Who are you supposed to be?"

"I'm cupid, puddin'!" she exclaimed, smiling. "It's Valentine's Day, and I've just shot my Valentine through the heart!" she said, taking the arrow and licking the tip, and then sticking it to his chest. "I thought you'd enjoy the joke!"

"What joke?" he demanded.

"Me being cupid and shooting you…I thought you'd think it was funny," said Harley, her face falling as he glared at her, furiously.

"What's funny about it?" he demanded. "It's just stupid, Harley. Just like you, you dumb blonde! Now get this piece of crap offa me!" he snapped, tugging at the arrow, which had fixed itself to his chest.

Harley began pulling at it, and at last ripped it off, along with a small portion of Joker's chest hair. He howled in pain, and Harley bent down to kiss his wound, but he shoved her away.

"Just go away!" he demanded. "You've done enough! And take that stupid outfit off!"

She grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that, puddin'," she breathed. She pulled off the sheet to reveal a sexy lingerie ensemble underneath. "Like what you see?" she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him. "Maybe you can impale your little cupid, huh, Mr. J?"

"I said go away!" he shouted, shoving her off the bed. "I'm not in the mood!"

"Aw, but it's Valentine's Day, puddin'," she said, sitting up and frowning. "It's the one day of the year aside from my birthday that I'm guaranteed a good revving!"

"Not right now you ain't!" he snapped, standing up and heading over to the bathroom, rubbing his chest tenderly. "And after this morning's fiasco, I can't guarantee I'm gonna be in the mood later! Honestly, Harley, why do you have to make a big production out of everything all the time?! You know every plan you try is destined to fail! You don't see me repeatedly trying schemes that never work, do ya?! Why can't you ever just cool it, huh?!"

"Because…I love you, puddin'," she murmured, gazing after him. "You drive me crazy."

"Yeah, well, you drive me crazy too, Harley, but not in a good way!" he shouted. "And if you keep doing stupid crap like this, you're gonna drive me homicidally crazy, and I'll be celebrating Valentine's Day by shooting a real arrow through cupid's heart, get me?!"

"Yes…puddin'," she said sadly, as he slammed the bathroom door. She sighed, picking up the sheet and wrapping it around her again.

The doorbell rang suddenly. Harley paused, wondering if she should answer it dressed as she was. Then she shrugged and skipped to the door. "Probably the mailman," she said. "Might be a nice treat for him."

She opened the door, and her face fell to see Two-Face, Scarface, and the Penguin standing on the doorstep. They stared back at her in surprise, and then Two-Face cleared his throat. "Hi…Harley. Is J there?"

"He's in the shower," she said. "Can I help?"

"I'll say, baby," said Scarface. "Why doncha take off that sheet and show us the goods?"

Harley slapped Scarface hard, making his head spin. "I'm so sorry, Miss Quinn," stammered the Ventriloquist, adjusting Scarface's head. "That was uncalled for, Mr. Scarface."

"Don't tell me what was uncalled for, dummy!" shouted Scarface. "Or I'll crack your skull open with my bare hands, see?"

"Yes…yes, Mr. Scarface," stammered the Ventriloquist.

"I sense, my dear, judging by your state of undress, that we are not expected," said the Penguin, slowly.

"Nope. Is Mr. J expecting you?" asked Harley. "I don't think he'd be forgetful enough to make plans on Valentine's Day…"

"Oh, is that what this is?" asked Two-Face. "I forgot it was Valentine's Day."

"Yeah, it is, and I'm cupid," said Harley. "And I'm gonna shoot Mr. J with a couple love darts to get him in the mood, so if you all wanna just beat it…"

"We have a meeting scheduled for today, my dear," interrupted the Penguin. "It's been planned for some weeks now. We're discussing a business deal of a very sensitive nature."

"Yeah, so if you ain't gonna strip off, why doncha get your boyfriend outta the shower and tell him to hurry up? We ain't got all day to waste," snapped Scarface.

Harley stared at them. "But…but Mr. J wouldn't make plans on Valentine's Day. It's our day…"

"Look, maybe you just don't interest him no more, dollface," retorted Scarface. "Maybe J's tastes have changed, and he's sick of pounding your pie and he don't wanna have to pretend to enjoy it again this year…"

Harley slapped him hard again. "Shut up!" she shrieked. "Puddin' loves his Harley pie! I won't listen to your lies about him, so just shut your wooden mouth before I carve you a new one, literally!"

"Harley, what's all this racket?" asked Joker, entering the room with a towel around his waist. "Who was at the door?"

He paused when he saw the visitors, surprised. "Guys…what are you doing here?"

"It's the 14th, J," reminded Two-Face. "We got the meeting, remember? About fighting the Bat?"

Joker stared at him. "It's the 14th today?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's Valentine's Day, puddin'," said Harley, coming over to cuddle him. "And I told the guys you wouldn't have made any plans on our special day, would you, Mr. J?" she asked, looking up at him hopefully.

"Well…I…didn't realize the 14th was Valentine's Day," said Joker, slowly.

"You didn't realize?" repeated Harley, stunned. "The 14th of February has always been Valentine's Day, puddin'…it ain't like Thanksgiving that changes…and it's always been our day…"

"Yeah…and so it's time for a change this year," said Joker, suddenly resolute. "Don't wanna get bored by repetition – I'm a random and spontaneous kinda guy, y'know, Harl. I don't wanna get stuck in a routine."

"I think he just don't wanna get stuck in you," muttered Scarface. Harley started forward again, but the Ventriloquist covered Scarface protectively.

"I'll try to make him be quiet, Miss Quinn, I promise," he murmured. "Please stop provoking her, Mr. Scarface."

"Hey, it's probably the only kinda excitement she's gonna get today," retorted Scarface. "Dame should be thanking me."

Harley glared at him, and then turned back to Joker pleadingly. "Puddin'…you're gonna…stay with me today, right?"

"I got the meeting, Harley," said Joker.

"Oh," said Harley, her face falling in disappointment. "Ok," she said, slowly. "I guess we'll still have tonight…"

"Nah, we're fighting the Bat tonight," interrupted Joker. "The meeting's about how we're gonna do it."

"Oh. Can I come along?" asked Harley.

"It's kinda just…a scheme between me and the guys, pumpkin," said Joker, slowly. "We've been planning this for a long time…"

"Well, I've been planning Valentine's Day since last Valentine's Day!" cried Harley, desperately. "And I went through all this effort!" She dashed into the kitchen and returned a moment later with an odd-looking, pink goo in the shape of a heart. "I made Love Puddin', puddin'!" she exclaimed.

"Oh…wow…that doesn't look healthy," muttered Two-Face.

"Yeah…it'll probably poison me, Harley," said Joker, looking at it distastefully. "Your cooking usually does. And I appreciate all your work, pooh, but I did tell you not to go overboard on this like you usually do, didn't I? Maybe this will be a good lesson for you to do as Daddy tells you," he said, patting her on the head. "Now I'm gonna go get dressed. Why don't you boys have a seat? I'll be out in a minute."

"J…you know you got a patch of hair missing there, doncha?" asked Two-Face, gesturing at his chest.

"Yes, I'm very aware of it, thanks, Harvey," snapped Joker.

He stormed off and Harley stared after him, tears in her eyes. The others entered the room and sat down in an awkward silence.

"Got anything to drink, Harley?" asked Two-Face at last, gently.

"I only got Love Juice," she muttered.

"And…what's that?" asked Two-Face, slowly.

"It's cranberry juice with glitter hearts in it," she said, wiping her eyes. "You want a glass?"

"No, thanks," said Two-Face.

Nobody said another word until Joker emerged, fully dressed in his usual suit. "Ok, guys, let's beat it," he said.

"You want a snack for the road, puddin'?" asked Harley, desperately. "I made Love Muffins too…"

"No thanks, Harley," he retorted. "I've had quite enough of your muffins to last me a lifetime."

"See, told ya he'd lost interest in ya, toots!" chuckled Scarface.

Joker laughed too. "Nice gag, Scars!" he giggled, clapping him on the back. "Let's go, guys! We got a Bat to kill!"

"Mr. J!" cried Harley, desperately. He turned back to her. "Stay with me," she whispered. "Please, my Valentine. I love you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, Harley," he snapped. "Now stop being pathetic in front of guys, would ya? It's embarrassing. I'll see you later."

He slammed the door in her face. Harley stared at the door, tears trickling down her cheeks. Then she sighed heavily, sitting down and reaching for the dish of pudding. "Comfort food time," she murmured, picking up a spoon. She ate a spoonful and shrugged. "It don't taste that bad, actually," she said. "Mr. J could've choked it down."

She ate more of it and forced a smile. "Even if I ain't got puddin's love, at least I got Love Puddin'!" she said, trying to laugh at her joke. It sounded hollow, so she stopped, and just continued to eat, crying silently to herself, alone in the hideout.


	2. Chapter 2

The fight with Batman had gone badly. It was a case of too many cooks spoiling the broth, thought Joker, as he dashed from the scene of the battle, leaving the others to be caught by Batman. It was their fault they'd lost the battle anyway – if they had left it up to Joker, he would have planned a killer gag and the Bat would be dead. But everyone had to add their own ideas, and soon the whole thing just turned into a complete fiasco. The best laid plans of criminals and lunatics, thought Joker sadly, as he raced over the rooftops. But then Harvey, Scarface, and Pengers had never been the best of criminals and lunatics, thought Joker, with a sigh. It was why they needed him. As reluctant as they were to let him be in charge, Joker had eventually persuaded them.

"Who's the one who's actually really hurt the Bat?" he had demanded.

"You," they all muttered reluctantly.

"Who's killed Robin?" he pressed.

"You," they repeated, grudgingly.

"And who's the one who's murdered and maimed two Gordons?" he continued.

"You," they said again.

"All right, then. I'm in charge, and it's my scheme we'll be using," Joker insisted. "No comments from the peanut gallery."

"But you gotta admit, J, your schemes have a tendency to go horribly wrong…" began Two-Face gently.

"I can't think of any off the top of my head," retorted Joker. "Except for seducing a shrink to help me break outta Arkham. You end up with your own personal, unbreakable, permanent ball and chain. But then I guess Mommy did warn me that casual sex could get me into trouble!" he chuckled.

"All I'm saying is that maybe it would be good to have a little input from the rest of us," said Two-Face. "We'll never kill the Bat if we don't work together. Cooperation is the key."

Cooperation was not a word Joker had ever been particularly fond of, and his suspicions had been justified now, he thought as he ran. You let intellectual inferiors start putting in their opinion, and the whole thing ended up ruined. Better to rely entirely on your own innate genius, otherwise the result would be disastrous.

But Joker had no intention of returning to Arkham anytime soon, and he figured Batman would be occupied enough with the other three to let him slip away. That, to his mind, was real cooperation. He felt no compunction in abandoning the others to the mess they had created – they should have listened to him in the first place.

He stopped running at last when he reached his hideout. His face fell in confusion when he saw his pet hyenas, Bud and Lou, whimpering and clawing at the front door. They were also dressed in sheets and cupid wings. "She got to you too, huh, boys?" muttered Joker, petting them. They turned to look at him with pleading eyes, and then returned to clawing at the door.

Joker thought it was odd that Harley hadn't let them in – she wasn't one to ignore her babies whimpering. He knocked on the door. "Harley!" he called. "I'm back, and I'm all yours for the rest of the night, pumpkin pie!"

She didn't answer the door. Joker figured she was still upset with him for earlier, and knocked louder. "Harley, I'm sorry about leaving you!" he called. "But I forgot my keys so you're gonna have to let me in! I don't wanna be stuck out here all night!"

There was still no response. Joker sighed. "Lousy little brat," he muttered, backing away and running toward the door. He threw his whole weight against it, but it held firm. "Harley!" he shouted, running against the door again. "When I get my hands on you, I'm gonna break your goddamn neck, you hear me?!"

The door fell in at last under the force and Bud and Lou rushed inside, still whimpering. Joker followed them. "Harley!" he called. "Harl…"

But his voice caught in his throat when he saw Bud and Lou whining and nuzzling a shape lying on the floor. It was Harley.

She was unconscious, deathly pale, and breathing heavily. "Harley?" said Joker, shoving Bud and Lou away and bending over her. He felt her pulse - it was very faint. He looked around, and then spotted an empty bowl by her side. He wiped his finger over the remains of the Love Pudding and popped it into his mouth. He immediately made a face, spitting it out.

"God, that tastes like crap!" he muttered. "Dumb bitch is trying to poison me…"

He trailed off as the realization hit him. "You…poisoned yourself?" he muttered, glaring at Harley in disgust. "That maybe the most pathetic thing I ever heard. Figures you would have done it."

Bud and Lou continued to nuzzle her, growing more agitated. "Ok, back off, boys," he snapped. "She's gonna need air. C'mon, Harley baby, wake up!" he said, shaking her gently. "C'mon, pooh. Poisoning yourself with your own cooking was a great gag, but joke's over now, huh?"

Harley didn't respond. Joker bent down and breathed into her mouth. "Harl, wake up," he said, slapping her gently. "C'mon, cupcake. Stop it now. Joke's not funny anymore. I get it. You think this is good payback for me abandoning you, huh? It's a plea for sympathy. But it ain't gonna work, toots, so just snap out of it! C'mon, Harley. C'mon, you dumb blonde. If you die like this, it ain't gonna be funny, you hear me? I ain't gonna be laughing. And you wouldn't wanna displease your loving Mr. J, would ya? So just wake up now."

Harley continued to breathe heavily. "Ok, if the slapping and the mouth-to-mouth don't work, I'm all outta ideas," said Joker, straightening up. "We need a doctor, boys. And I know just the guy to call."

He headed for the phone and dialled a number.

"Hello?" said the voice on the other end.

"Hey, Hush a Bye Baby, how ya been?" chuckled Joker. "Look, I don't have much time for chit-chat, but I got a little favor to ask you…"

"Joker?" growled Hush.

"No, it's Batman, actually," retorted Joker, sarcastically. "I've called to tell you I love you. Of course it's the Joker!"

"And what makes you think I'll do you a favor?" demanded Hush. "You tried to kill me!"

"Look, I said I was sorry for that, all right?" retorted Joker. "What else can I do?"

"You've tried to kill me multiple times," snapped Hush.

"And I've said I was sorry every time, haven't I?" demanded Joker.

"Then maybe you should stop doing it!" shouted Hush. "I know you're jealous that I'm the only man equal to matching Batman in terms of brains…"

"Oh, let's not bring this up again, Hush Little Baby," retorted Joker. "The doctors at Arkham said you had some really strong delusions, and I agree that you gotta try to learn to get over them…"

"Goodbye, Joker," snapped Hush.

"Hey, I didn't call you just to have you hang up on me!" said Joker. "I said I need a favor, Tommy!"

"You must really think I am crazy if you think I'm going to do anything for you," retorted Hush.

"It'll be a business deal, Hushy," retorted Joker. "Not a personal favor. And it'll all be very Hush Hush!" he chuckled.

"What business deal?" demanded Hush.

"Simple. You help me, and I tell you where Eddie Nygma's hiding out. You've wanted to beat him into a pulp again for a long time, haven't you, Hushy? Join the club!" laughed Joker.

Hush was silent. "What do you want me to do?" he muttered at last.

"Be at the old Funnibone Shipping building as soon as you can get here, and I'll show you," retorted Joker.

"Funnibone?" repeated Hush.

"Yeah. If it helps you remember, Funniboner is what I call what I got in the morning, because I'm a classy kinda guy…"

"Goodbye, Joker," snapped Hush, and the phone clicked off.

Joker shrugged, hanging up. "He'll be here soon, boys," he said, petting the hyenas, who were licking and nuzzling Harley gently. "If anyone can make her better, it's old Hush Puppy. We ain't got nothing to worry about."

He wished he felt as confident as he sounded.


	3. Chapter 3

"There's nothing I can do," said Hush, straightening up at last with a sigh. "It may be a matter of weeks or a matter of hours, but she is going to die."

Joker stared at him. "You got a real crap way of breaking bad news, Hush a Bye Mountain. You might wanna work on your bedside manner…"

"I'm not kidding, Joker," interrupted Hush. "I suggest you make peace with the fact. As Aristotle said…"

"And as I said, it ain't over until the fat lady sings," interrupted Joker. "And Harley ain't fat, and I know I ain't a doctor, but to me, she don't look like she's ready to sing yet."

"I understand you're a lunatic, and that you have a difficult time coming to terms with reality, but the truth is she's dying, Joker," snapped Hush. "The only thing either of us can do is make her last days comfortable."

"What if I found out what kinda bacteria she ingested?" asked Joker. "There's got to be a cure somehow, right?"

"I'm afraid it's gone beyond that," retorted Hush. "The bacteria has infected most of her body, and her major organs are shutting down. An antidote isn't going to reverse that process. Nothing is."

Joker glared at him. "Don't take this personally, Hush a Bye Baby, but I tend not to trust doctors."

"That is your prerogative, but you shouldn't have consulted me if you're not going to heed my advice," retorted Hush.

"Which is to just give up," finished Joker. "I ain't the kinda guy who does that, Hush Little Baby. And neither is Harley," he muttered, looking down at her.

"There are some things you can't fight, Joker," retorted Hush. "Death is one of them. As Aristotle said, 'Nature does nothing in vain.'"

"Oh, spare me philosophy from some dead guy in a skirt," retorted Joker. "If he was so smart, how come he's dead, huh?"

"I'm sorry you don't like the diagnosis, but there's nothing I can do about it," snapped Hush. "Her condition is terminal. But as Aristotle said, 'Change in all things is sweet.'"

"Easy for him to say," retorted Joker. "He's dead – he don't have to deal with change. And I'm sure Harley ain't too eager to go join him in in the afterlife. He sounds like a real square."

"I have upheld my part of the bargain," said Hush. "Where is Nygma?"

Joker folded his arms across his chest. "Nah uh, deal's off, Hush Puppy. I didn't need you to come all the way here just to tell me there's no hope. I could have given up without your help."

"I am warning you, clown, do not push me," growled Hush.

"What are you gonna do, Hushy? Quote Aristotle at me?" said Joker.

"I'm going to shoot you in the face," retorted Hush, pulling out his gun. He cried out as it was knocked from his hand suddenly by a hyena seizing his wrist in its mouth. Another hyena leapt at him, knocking him to the ground.

"As Joker said, never underestimate the slavish loyalty of dumb animals," said Joker, petting the hyena as it growled at Hush. "Now maybe you wanna give me another diagnosis."

"There's nothing I can do about the diagnosis!" snapped Hush, struggling to push the hyena off him. "I don't have the power to prevent her death!"

"Aw, sounds like somebody needs a nice shot of good, old fashioned self-esteem!" chuckled Joker. "Happy to oblige a pal like you, Hushy!" he laughed, picking up the gun and pointing it at him. "Sure you don't wanna change your mind? C'mon, Tommy boy, you gotta believe in yourself!"

Hush glared at him. "All right. If I find a way to neutralize the bacteria, I might be able to help her regain consciousness before she dies. But it would only be an illusion of her recovery, the way patients often seem to be getting better just before death strikes. But perhaps an illusion is enough to pacify a lunatic such as yourself."

Joker grinned. "As Aristotle said, 'There was never a genius without a tincture of madness.' You gotta agree with that, Hush Little Baby, doncha?"

He whistled, and Bud climbed off Hush, still growling menacingly. "Now, here's what I'm gonna do, Hushy. I'm gonna leave you with the patient, and the pets to keep an eye on you, while I go out to handle some business. Should I pick up anything for you? Aspirin? Iodine? Riddlin?"

"I have all the tools I need with me," snapped Hush.

"Ok, I'll leave you to it. Play nicely with the Hush Puppy while I'm out, boys," he said, petting the hyenas. "And if he gives you any trouble, you have Daddy's permission to kill."

"Kill" was a word both Bud and Lou understood, and they nodded, focusing their attention back on Hush. Joker left the hideout, whistling happily.

"Now…riddle me this. If I were Eddie Nygma, where would I be hiding?" he muttered to himself, looking around. "It's not like I have any friends I could stay with, or anybody who would care if I suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth, because I'm a loser with no social skills. Which means the only people who might know where I was would be other losers with no social skills. And Loser With No Social Skills will be written on the tombstones of Johnny Crane and Jervis Tetch."

He laughed. "_I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date, no time to say hello, goodbye, I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!_"

"Hatty!" he exclaimed, as Jervis Tetch opened the door to the sound of his knocking. "A very merry unbirthday to you!" he said, hugging him.

"Don't touch me," growled Tetch, shoving him away. "Jonathan, we have an unwelcome visitor!"

"Johnny, how's the wife and kids?" asked Joker as Crane entered the room. "Oops, sorry, I forgot you don't have any of those!"

"What do you want?" demanded Crane.

"I wanted to know if either of your losers have seen Eddie Nygma lately, maybe at the last meeting of the Nerd Club?" asked Joker.

"And what do you want with the Riddler?" asked Crane.

"Me? I want him to die a slow, horrible, and painful death. But I ain't come on my behalf, Johnny – a certain Hush a Bye Baby wants to know."

"What on earth are you doing helping Hush?" asked Tetch, puzzled. "I understood you were mortal enemies. Didn't you try to kill him multiple times?"

"Yeah, but frankly, Hatty, who haven't I tried to kill multiple times?" asked Joker, shrugging. "Batsy's my best friend, and I've lost track of the number of times I've tried to kill him. It just goes to show I care."

"You don't care about anyone," snapped Crane. "It's obvious to even the meanest intellect that you're only trying to help Hush because he's doing something for you in return."

"Hey, Bats better watch out – there's someone trying to take his place as World's Greatest Detective!" chuckled Joker. "I can see you and Tetchy as some crime fighting duo in the world's most boring cop show. We could call it Nerd Academy…"

"You've wasted your time coming here, Joker," interrupted Crane. "Neither of us have any intention of handing Nygma over to that bully to be beaten into a bloody pulp again. Neither Jervis or I are that inhumane. I bid you good day…"

"Hang on, Professor!" snapped Joker. "I thought you were curious to know why I was helping Hush a Bye Mountain! It's a noble cause, I promise you."

"I can only imagine how perverse your idea of a noble cause must be," said Crane, glaring at him. "What sick joke is it this time?"

"No joke," replied Joker. "I'm gonna shoot straight with you. I need a doctor."

Tetch stepped away from him. "You're ill?" he asked, covering his mouth with his handkerchief.

"Nah, not me," retorted Joker. "One of my pets."

"Hush isn't a veterinarian," said Crane, puzzled.

"Didn't say it was an animal pet, Johnny," replied Joker, grinning.

Crane's face grew pale at the sudden realization. "Harley's ill?" he murmured.

"Uh huh. Stupid brat gave herself food poisoning by eating her own cooking," said Joker, laughing. "Ain't that a killer gag? And now Hush Puppy says it really is gonna be a killer gag unless he can find some way to stop the bacteria eating her body from the inside out, and he won't do that unless I got some leverage like Eddie Nygma's location. So if you won't tell me to help your old pal Joker, why doncha do it for Harley? Think about it, Craney. She's so young and sweet and innocent…you can't just let her die when it's in your power to stop it, can you?"

Crane was silent. "Did you see what Hush did to Nygma last time?" he murmured, quietly.

"Sure did! Laughed about it for weeks!" chuckled Joker. "You gotta admire Tommy Boy's enthusiam for violence. His passion's only rivaled by mine and the Bat's!"

"We can't just ignore a damsel in distress, Jonathan," murmured Tetch. "That's not how a gentleman would behave."

"Yeah, you gotta sacrifice one of the ladies," chuckled Joker. "Your choice whether it's Eddie or Harley. And when I tell Harley who it was who saved her life, I'm sure she'll be so grateful to the two of you. Might even give you a kiss. You can't resist the possibility of that, can you, Johnny? I know you've always wanted to take a ride on the Harley."

Crane glared at him, but then shared a look with Tetch, who nodded. He sighed heavily, and then sat down, scribbling something onto a piece of paper. He handed this to Joker, who tried to take it, but Crane held on firmly. "If Harley dies, I will absolve Mr. Elliot of all responsibility, and place the blame entirely on your head," he murmured. "And the Scarecrow will hunt you down. You can try to hide, but you cannot hide from fear. He will find you, and he will make your deepest terrors a reality."

"Nice try, Johnny, but I ain't got any terrors," retorted Joker, snatching the paper out of his hand. "I'm too crazy to be afraid of anything."

"Why are you doing all this for Harley if you don't fear her dying?" asked Crane, quietly.

"I don't _fear _her dying, I just don't want it happen particularly," retorted Joker. "I'd have to learn how to cook for myself, for one thing. Although after this, I think it's probably best that I do that anyway. Or maybe I'll just hire a cook. Or go out to eat."

"All men have fear," murmured Crane. "Fear is pain arising from the anticipation of evil."

Joker stared at him. "That a quote?" he asked.

Crane nodded. "Aristotle."

"Figures," muttered Joker, heading out the door. "Seems some people don't shut up even after they're dead. And what's the good of Harley dying if it won't shut her up, I ask you? Nope, no point in her dying at all. Might as well have her stick around."

He shut the door, and Crane and Tetch stared at it. "Is that his way of saying he loves her?" asked Tetch.

"Yes," murmured Crane. "I do believe it is."


	4. Chapter 4

Harley awoke hazily, and blinked to clear her vision, because she thought she saw a man without a face bending over her. She kept blinking, but the image didn't change. Harley began to wonder if she wasn't awake at all – just in some bizarre dream world like that Alice in Wonderland book Jervis Tetch was so fond of, but suddenly the figure spoke: "She's awake, Joker."

And then the man without a face was replaced by the man with the face she loved most in the whole world. "Puddin'?" she whispered, beaming at him.

"How ya feeling, kiddo?" asked Joker, smiling. "That was a real stupid thing to do, wasn't it, pumpkin pie? Giving yourself food poisoning – only you could be that pathetic, you dumb blonde. You gave us quite a scare there, but Hush Little Baby says you're gonna be right as rain now."

Hush cleared his throat. "Joker, a brief word with you," he said, beckoning him away.

Joker nodded. "Boys, Mommy's back!" he called, and Bud and Lou rushed into the room, yipping excitedly and wagging their tails as they licked and nuzzled Harley affectionately. While she was distracted in petting and cooing over them, Joker joined Hush in the corner.

"You shouldn't ruin my reputation or deceive her by feeding her lies," murmured Hush. "She's not going to be all right. I don't want her last thoughts while she's dying to be Hush is a terrible doctor. I'm not. I'm an excellent doctor. And it's cruel to give her false hope when there is none. You should be honest with her, and tell her her time is limited."

"Well, I would, if that were true, Hushy," said Joker, nodding. "But it ain't."

Hush stared at him. "Just because you keep denying it doesn't mean it won't happen…"

"And just because you keep saying it will don't mean that it will happen," retorted Joker.

"It's medically inevitable…" began Hush.

"Medically schemedically," said Joker, waving his hand. "If you go by medical science, I should have been dead a least a hundred times by now. It don't know everything, just like you don't know everything, Hush a Bye Baby."

"And neither do you," snapped Hush. "And only you would be cruel enough to so horribly deceive the woman who loves you beyond reason. She's dying, Joker. If you had any shred of decency in you, you'd let her make peace with that fact."

"Well, I ain't got any shred of decency in me, Hush Puppy," retorted Joker. "I thought that'd be pretty obvious. I'm the Joker."

Hush glared at him. "I do believe I understand even your twisted logic," he muttered. "You are not so different from everyone else - you are merely experiencing the five stages of grief. You're stuck in denial…"

"Thought that was a river!" chuckled Joker.

"But you will soon move on to anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance of the situation," Hush continued, ignoring him.

"Sounds like the five stages of my relationship with Harley!" laughed Joker.

"If you want her to live as long as she possibly can, she has to be very delicately taken care of," said Hush. "She needs extreme tenderness and constant attention. Not just for her own sake, but also because the moment of her death is utterly unpredictable – it will likely come out of a clear, blue sky, and take no time at all. Even with the most gentle ministrations, which I doubt you are capable of, by the way, I don't imagine she'll last a week."

"Then you got a real small imagination, Hushy," retorted Joker. "Here's Eddie's address," he said, handing him the piece of paper. "Now beat it."

Hush glared at him but obeyed, leaving the hideout and slamming the door behind him.

"Ok, back off, boys, she's still recovering," said Joker, pushing the hyenas away. "How're you feeling, kid?"

"Lots better, now that I got my puddin' with me," murmured Harley, taking his hand and beaming. "Did Hushy say how long it would be before I'm on my feet again?"

Joker looked at her. "A…little while," he said, slowly. "Just try to take it easy, huh, kiddo? I know you got a problem doing that."

"Uh huh," said Harley, smiling. "Especially when I just wanna grab my puddin' and cover him with kisses."

"Yeah, you ain't doing nothing like that!" snapped Joker. "You're resting, ya get me? Hushy said you gotta relax, so I gotta take care of you."

Harley stared at him. "You're…gonna take care of…_me_, puddin'?"

"Yeah. Got a problem with that, you dumb blonde?" he demanded.

"No, puddin', of course not," she said hastily.

"Ok, then," he snapped, sitting down next to the bed and folding his arms across his chest. He was silent for a moment. "You want a glass of water or something?" he asked suddenly.

"Oh…yeah, that'd be nice, Mr. J," said Harley.

He stood up, and returned a moment later, placing a glass down by her bedside. "You wanna sit up?" he asked, holding out his hand to help her.

"Sure…puddin'," said Harley, still surprised at being treated gently by him. She was even more surprised when he tenderly pulled her up against the pillows, and then handed the glass to her.

"You need help drinking that?" he asked.

"No, I can manage, thanks, puddin'," she said.

"You sure? You ain't supposed to exert yourself," snapped Joker.

"Yeah…drinking ain't exactly an effort…" began Harley, raising the glass to her lips.

"But lifting your hand is, you stupid brat!" shouted Joker, intercepting her hand suddenly. "Let go, you dumb broad!"

Harley obeyed. "Now tell me when you've had enough," he growled, putting the glass to her lips.

"Puddin'…you're being real sweet," said Harley, slowly. "But I can manage to do things like drinking by myself. I dunno why you're being so tender – it ain't like you at all…"

"Hush a Bye Mountain don't think I can take care of you," retorted Joker. "So I'm gonna prove him wrong. Don't like that high-and-mighty, skirt-quoting doctor thinking he knows more than me. He don't."

Harley was silent, laying back on the pillows. "Now, I'm gonna sit here, and if you want anything, you let me know," he said, sitting down by the bed again.

"O…K," said Harley slowly. The minutes ticked by and she cleared her throat. "You think you could…get me another glass of water, puddin'?" she asked.

"You just had one, you greedy brat!" he shouted.

"Yeah, but I'm still thirsty…" she said.

He stood up furiously. "Fine, you useless waste of space! Honestly, I'm like a goddamn slave to you, ain't I?! Well, when you're feeling better, I'm gonna punch you hard for every glass of water you chugged down, you worthless dame!"

Harley expected, with the mood he was in, that the next glass of water would have some sort of toxin in it. But it didn't. It was a regular glass of water, which the Joker helped her drink again. Harley wasn't sure if she liked this – on the one hand, it was wonderful to see Mr. J being so sweet to her. On the other, it wasn't at all like Mr. J to do all this. But then, she reasoned, he was a man who liked his challenges, and if Hush had challenged him that he couldn't take care of her, she knew he would do almost anything to prove him wrong. And despite his caring actions, Mr. J still seemed angry – not necessarily at her, but at the world. But then that was hardly unusual for Mr. J. Harley never even considered anything might be really wrong with her. And that was exactly what Joker wanted.

"If…Hushy's right…it's gonna come as a joke to ya, pumpkin," he murmured, staring at her when she was sleeping later that night. "And that's how it should come. As one big, final joke."


	5. Chapter 5

The Joker whistled, flipping a pancake. It landed in the pan, much to Bud and Lou's disappointment, who were standing by him, wagging their tails and waiting for him to drop more than the several he already had.

"This ain't so hard," he said, putting down the pan on the burner. "I dunno why Harley can't get the hang of cooking – it ain't rocket science. I guess it's because she's a dumb blonde, huh, boys?"

The hyenas barked, drooling. "Hey, shut up, you stupid mutts!" shouted Joker, rounding on them. "You'll wake her up!"

"Mmm…puddin'?" called a voice sleepily from the other room.

"Y'see?! I told you!" snapped Joker, leaving the kitchen and entering the bedroom. Harley beamed at him, but her face fell in confusion when she saw that he was wearing her apron.

"Puddin', what…" she began, but Joker interrupted her.

"No talking, pooh, just relax and open wide, as I said to you last Valentine's Day," he chuckled, reaching into his pocket and popping a thermometer in her mouth.

He withdrew it and glanced at it, smiling. "Yeah, you're doing just fine. Don't have a fever or nothing. At least I don't think you do – don't really know how to read one of these," he said, tossing the thermometer over his shoulder.

"Are you…cooking, puddin'?" asked Harley, astonished.

"Yeah, making pancakes for breakfast," he said, nodding. "You like pancakes, doncha, pooh?"

"Oh…yeah, sure, puddin'," said Harley, slowly. "I didn't know you could cook."

He shrugged. "You find the recipe in the cookbook and follow it. It's not difficult for some of us, but then I suppose we can't all be geniuses, can we, pumpkin? No, the world needs stupid people too, sweets, to do all the tedious chores we great minds can't be bothered to do," he said, patting her on the head. "So don't you feel bad for being thick."

Bud and Lou suddenly began barking from the kitchen. "I told you mutts to shut up!" he shouted. "Harley don't need all this racket when she's trying to recover! Put a sock in it before I break your vocal cords!"

They kept barking desperately. "Is that…smoke, puddin'?" asked Harley, looking toward the door.

Joker leapt to his feet. "The pancakes!" he cried, racing out. Harley heard a clatter, and then a roar of agony. "Son of a…!"

Joker had clearly just picked up the pan without realizing how hot it would be. This was followed by a torrent of swearing, and whining from Bud and Lou as they attempted to nuzzle him. Harley waited patiently for the chaos to subside, and then Joker appeared in her room again, clutching a bandaged hand.

"You'd prefer cereal for breakfast, wouldn't you, pooh?" he asked, smiling.

"Yeah, puddin'," agreed Harley.

"That's my girl! Got a nice bowl of Frosted Flakes all poured for you! They're grrrreat!" he said, placing the bowl on the nightstand. "Now you just lie still and let me feed you, sweets, before the cereal goes all mushy."

He sat down, picking up a spoonful of cereal and putting it to her lips. The phone rang at that moment, but Joker ignored it, helping her eat.

"You ain't…gonna answer that, puddin'?" asked Harley, slowly.

"Cereal will get all mushy, pooh," repeated Joker. "And nobody likes that."

"I actually like it better that way," said Harley. "Gives the sugar a chance to really seep into the milk."

He shrugged, standing up. "Well, I guess it'll be good that you have to chew as little as possible. Back in a second, baby," he said, kissing her forehead gently.

He strolled into the living room and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Since when have you started answering your own phone?" asked the voice on the other end. "Harley must really be sick."

"She's always been sick, Pammie, that's why I keep her around," chuckled Joker. "You should see what she can do with a whoopie cushion."

"Thanks for that thought first thing in the morning, J," sighed Poison Ivy. "Anyway, I just called to see how Harley was doing. Johnny Crane called me yesterday and said she was ill."

"Yeah, it's nothing serious, Pammie," replied Joker. "Nothing for you to get your roots in a twist over."

"It must be, if you've called in Hush," retorted Ivy. "You hate him."

"I hate a lot of people," replied Joker. "Including the dame I'm talking to right now. So I'm just gonna hang up on you – nothing personal…"

"J, I'm being serious, even if you're incapable of that," snapped Ivy. "Do you need me to come over and take care of her?"

"Oh, I get it!" snapped Joker. "Johnny called you to look after Harley because he don't think I can do it! And neither do you, clearly! Well, I'll show both of you and the Hush Puppy! I don't need your help, toots, so why doncha just go back to minding your own business?!"

He slammed the phone down. "Bunch of interfering busybodies," he growled.

"Who was on the phone, puddin'?" asked Harley, entering the room suddenly.

Joker stared at her, and then grew furious. "What the hell are you doing outta bed?!" he shouted, grabbing her and lifting her off her feet. "You ain't well enough to be walking around! Now just stay there!" he shouted, throwing her down violently on the bed and then carefully tucking the covers around her. "You're weak and fragile, doncha understand, you dumb blonde?!"

"But…I feel fine, puddin'!" said Harley, shocked by his violence, and even more shocked by how gentle it was. "And I don't like making you go through all this trouble on my account…"

"I don't care what you like and don't like!" he yelled. "When have I ever cared about that?! You'll do what I tell you, you stupid woman, you get me?!"

"Yes…puddin'," murmured Harley.

The doorbell rang suddenly. Joker glared at her. "If I see you trying to get outta bed again, I'll beat your face into the ground, you little brat!" he snapped. Then he went to answer the door.

"Riddle me this: what on earth are you doing wearing an apron?" asked a very startled Edward Nygma, when he saw the Joker.

"Eddie, this is a surprise!" he exclaimed, beaming. "And you're looking a lot better than I expected you would be with Hush Little Baby after your blood."

Nygma stared at him. "How do you know Hush is after me?" he asked.

Joker grinned. "That's all very Hush Hush, Eddie," he chuckled.

"Well, I've managed to outsmart his inferior intellect," said Nygma, shrugging. "He'll never find me – I've left him a riddle which leads him on completely the wrong track. The man could never compare with me in terms of brains anyway. Just like a certain mutual Bat friend of ours."

"I thought the reason you kept being dragged back to Arkham was because Batsy figured out all your riddles," replied Joker. "And you remember that time he outsmarted you? When he survived that death trap you set up for him, even though there was no way he could have done it? You kept screaming about how that was impossible for weeks afterward, and how you had to know the solution, until Harvey held your head down the toilet to shut you up."

"I thought that was you who held my head down the toilet," snapped Nygma.

Joker waved his hand. "Me, Harvey, what does it matter? The point is old Batsy has outsmarted you more times than I can count."

"Only because I let him win," retorted Nygma. "What's life without a challenge?"

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Eddie," chuckled Joker.

"I was wondering if you'd be interested in taking part in a scheme I've set up in order to foil the Caped Degrader," said Nygma. "If all goes according to plan, it will result in his ultimate humiliaton."

"Aw, sounds like fun, Eddie, but I can't," said Joker. "Harley's sick and I gotta take care of her. Anyway, I just saw Batsy last night. Don't want him to think I'm getting clingy!" he laughed.

Nygma looked at him. "You wanna run that by me again, J?" he asked. "You're staying home…to take care of Harley?"

"Yeah, that's right," snapped Joker. "Got a problem with that?"

"Um…no," stammered Nygma. "It's just…I don't understand. You're putting Harley in front of the Bat?"

"You deaf, Eddie?!" demanded Joker. "I ain't putting anyone in front of anyone! I said I just saw Batsy! He ain't had time to miss me, and I don't wanna get into a routine of fighting him every night! That'd be boring and predictable, and I ain't that kinda guy! Plus Harley's sick and needs me to hang around! I'd have to be crazy to risk both of my closest relationships for your stupid scheme! And do I look crazy to you, Eddie?!"

"Um…" began Nygma.

"It's a rhetorical question, you moron!" shouted Joker, slamming the door in his face. "Honestly, what's wrong with everyone?" he muttered, storming back to Harley's room. "I'm surrounded by psychos, I tell ya."

Bud and Lou had curled up on the bed and were cuddling Harley gently as she stroked them. "Don't you pet them too hard," muttered Joker. "You ain't supposed to strain yourself."

Harley nodded. "Who was at the door?" she asked.

"Eddie Nygma," he retorted. "Wanted me to take part in some plan to humiliate the Bat. But I told him no dice. I can't fight the Bat with you here like this."

Harley stared at him. "You refused the Bat…for me?"

"No, as I explained to Eddie, I just saw Batsy," retorted Joker. "Don't wanna get into a bad habit of needing him. That'd just be pathetic. I ain't pathetic, Harley, not like you, you dumb blonde."

She nodded slowly, and turned her attention back to Bud and Lou. "That's weak, Harley, y'know," he said. "Needing people. I ain't ever needed anyone. I'm the Joker. And I certainly don't wanna form an unhealthy dependency on my nemesis – I mean, I have to kill him, right? Don't wanna be too attached to something that's gotta die. That'd be…pathetic."

"Sure, puddin'," she agreed.

"I ain't pathetic, Harley," he repeated, firmly. "I don't want anyone to think I am."

He was silent for a moment. "Maybe…maybe if…_when_ you get better, pooh, I should stop spending as much time fighting the Bat," he murmured. "Wouldn't want him to get dependent on me either."

He took her hand. "How about that, Harl?" he asked. "How about if you try real hard to get better, I'll stop fighting Bats so much. How about that for a deal, cupcake?"

Harley looked at him. "I'm…I'm trying real hard to get better anyway, puddin'…"

"Yeah, but…y'know, as an added incentive," he said. "Not because I prefer you to him or anything, but because I don't want either of us to start…needing each other. Y'know. Just in case…just in case some day we have to…go on without the other. Wouldn't be funny, having to live without something you need to put a smile on your face, would it, Harl? That wouldn't be funny at all."

"No, Mr. J," agreed Harley.

"Good," he said, nodding. "So you're gonna try your hardest to get better, right?"

"Uh huh, Mr J," she said.

He beamed. "Good girl," he said, kissing her tenderly. "We got a deal."

He patted her cheek gently. "Now you just lie there, cupcake, while Daddy brings you something warm to drink."

He stood up, but Harley caught his hand. "Mr. J," she said, slowly. "I am…gonna be all right, ain't I?"

"Of course you are, pumpkin pie!" exclaimed Joker, beaming. "We got a deal! And my Harley girl ain't the type of dame to break her word. Don't you worry, pooh. Everything's going to be all right. I promise."

"Ok, Mr. J," murmured Harley, staring after him as he left. Tears filled her eyes, and she wiped them away hurriedly. She didn't want Mr. J to know that she had begun to figure out the joke.


	6. Chapter 6

She awoke in the middle of the night to feel his arms around her. She smiled, cuddling deeper into his embrace and shutting her eyes again. She suddenly felt his eyes on her and realized that he wasn't asleep. She opened her eyes again to meet his bright, intense ones, just staring at her. He wasn't smiling.

"Puddin'? You ok?" she murmured.

He grunted, continuing to stare at her. "Why ain't you asleep?" she asked. "It's late…"

"Y'know, you're a lot more attractive when you don't speak," he interrupted suddenly. "You got kinda a grating voice."

"Oh…ok, puddin'," murmured Harley, and she fell silent, lowering her head. Joker tilted her chin up so that her eyes met his again.

"You're a pretty doll," he murmured. "Why haven't I broken you by now?"

Harley wondered if she should answer that, but he had just told her not to speak, so she obeyed him. "You play with toys and they tend to break," he murmured. "Especially when you play with 'em rough, the way I do with all my toys. But you ain't broken. Why is that?"

He ran his fingers gently over her body. "You ain't strong," he murmured. "Look at you. There ain't anything to you. You ain't big and wearing armor, like the Bat. You're fragile and delicate and gentle, small and thin and weak. So why ain't I broken you yet? Why are you still here? I will break you one day, y'know, and nobody's stupid enough to want to be broken. Why doncha leave me? You crazy or suicidal or something? You'll probably break sooner than you think, anyway - I may not have much time left to…"

He trailed off. "To play with my baby doll," he murmured, touching her face.

Harley drew close and kissed him tenderly. "You do what you wanna with your baby doll, puddin'," she whispered. "You break her if you wanna. She's yours, and she ain't ever gonna leave you. You can do whatever you want to her, but you ain't gonna ever drive her away. She loves you."

"Don't speak, Harley," he murmured. "I don't wanna hear your annoying voice. That's something good that'll come when I finally break you – I won't hear puddin' or Mistah J ever again."

His hands slid around her neck. "Harley…if you were gonna…gonna die…how would you want it to happen?"

"I'd want you to do it, puddin'," she murmured.

"How?" he asked.

"However you want," she whispered. "I only know I wanna go by your hand. Whatever will make you smile and laugh, that's how I wanna die. You gotta have some joke in mind for my death, doncha, puddin'?"

"Oh yeah, I got a million of 'em," he said, grinning. "They're all so good, I dunno how I'm ever gonna pick! And…I shouldn't be forced to pick. I should be able to take my time…to consider it…but…but I dunno how much time I got, Harl. Comedy's all about timing, y'see, and I gotta time the gag right."

"Is the time right now, puddin'?" asked Harley, quietly.

"I dunno," he repeated. "What do you think?"

"I dunno," she replied. "I don't know nothing about comedy."

"You got that right, you dumb blonde!" he chuckled, grinning. His fingers had been gently massaging her throat, and they suddenly tightened. Harley felt her neck gently being compressed between his hands, and shut her eyes.

"Now, puddin'?" she whispered.

"I…dunno, Harl," he repeated. "How does it feel?"

"Real good, puddin'," she whispered, smiling at him. "It feels…right."

She looked at him, tears coming to her eyes as she struggled to breathe. "You ain't smiling," she murmured.

"No," he agreed, tightening his grip. "No, I ain't."

Harley felt her neck being crushed under his iron grip, and involuntary tears flooded her eyes as she fought for breath. Spots began swimming in front of her vision, and then she blacked out.

She awoke to feel his mouth on hers, breathing life back into her. Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed up into his. For a moment, she thought they were wet with tears, but that must have been her imagination.

"You stupid little fool!" he growled, furiously. "Why did you tell me it felt right?! The timing wasn't right at all! I wasn't smiling – it wasn't funny! And I ain't gonna waste a gag by pulling it when the time's not right! I ain't gonna let it happen!"

He seized her face in his hands. "You ain't gonna die, you hear me, Harley?!" he demanded. "I ain't gonna let you! Don't you even think of breaking your promise to me and dying, because if you try…I'll…I'll…kill you!"

His mouth was on hers again, kissing her desperately. "I'll kill you!" he repeated. "I'll kill you, you stupid woman! I ain't joking!"

"I know you ain't, puddin'," she whispered, hugging him tightly.

They didn't speak for some minutes, just holding each other. "Mr. J," said Harley, quietly. "If I do gotta…go…"

"You don't," he interrupted. "I told you, it wouldn't be funny. I ain't gonna let you ruin comedy like that."

"There are some things you can't control, Mr. J," she murmured.

"I can always control my jokes," he retorted. "And you're my joke, Harley. I ain't gonna let you go."

She beamed at him. "Ok, Mr. J," she whispered. "I trust you."

She snuggled against him. "Anyway…some day far in the future…when the timing's right for my death, when it'll be funny…"

She trailed off. "What?" he prompted.

"Well, I…want you to know that…I love you."

Joker snorted. "If you were dying, it would be better to save your breath. I heard that gag before."

"It ain't a gag, Mr. J," she murmured. "And I don't ever get tired of saying it."

"Yeah. But you ain't got a sense of humor, Harley," he retorted. "I dunno why I keep you around sometimes."

"Neither do I, Mr. J," she murmured, entwining her hand with his. "You keep it up, and people might start to think you love me or something."

"Well, we wouldn't want that," murmured Joker.

"No," she agreed. "So maybe it's better that I go sooner rather than later."

He looked at her. "You'll go when I give you permission, and not a moment before," he muttered. "You do as I say, Harley. You're mine, and you obey me."

"Yes, Mr. J," she murmured.

"And if keeping you around for a few more years means people start to think I love you…well, let 'em. It's the joke that matters. Who cares what people think? You and I know the truth, don't we, Harl?" he whispered, pressing her hand.

"Uh huh, Mr. J," she breathed, shutting her eyes. "We do."


	7. Chapter 7

Joker awoke the next morning still holding Harley in his arms. He looked down at her, and noticed how still and pale she looked. And then he realized that she wasn't breathing.

"Harley," he said, shaking her gently. "Harley, c'mon. Wake up."

She didn't respond. "Harley, Mr. J says wake up now," murmured Joker. "This ain't a funny gag, I told ya, now do what I say."

There wasn't a flicker of life from her. Bud and Lou had woken up, and were instantly alarmed, leaping up onto the bed and whining and nuzzling Harley, and then staring at Joker in confusion, their eyes pleading.

"Yeah, yeah, I know!" he snapped. "She won't listen to me!"

They whined harder, and began licking her wildly in an effort to wake her up. She didn't respond and they grew more agitated, barking at Joker desperately. "There's nothing I can do!" he shouted. And the moment the words escaped his lips, he grew furious.

"Nothing I can do?!" he shouted, throwing off the covers. "I ain't gonna just resign myself like that! I'm the Joker! There's always something I can do! And if tender, loving care don't work, then we can always try a little pain!"

He reached under the bed and picked up his joy buzzer. He pressed it into Harley's hand, sending electricity shooting through her. "C'mon, Harley," he muttered, pumping against her heart as she twitched. "Come on! You ain't gonna ruin the joke like this, you stupid, worthless, annoying, useless little brat! This is typical of you – you're such a screw up! You screw up everything! You screwed up my life almost as much as the Bat has, and if you think I'm gonna allow my life to go back to being boring and uncomplicated and routine, you got another think coming, you dumb broad! I need fighting, I need pain, I need insanity, I need to inflict violence and abuse and suffering, and you ain't gonna disappoint me by taking that all away from me! You're the only doll in the world stupid enough to put up with all that as long and as hard as you have! I need you, Harley!"

He dropped the joy buzzer at last. Harley's body remained twitching for a few more seconds, and then lay still. Bud and Lou whined, and then began howling forlornly. "Harl…Harl, c'mon," murmured Joker. "Don't leave me without my number one fan. What's a comedian without an audience? He…ain't funny, y'see. Not funny at all."

He traced her lips with his finger, pulling the corners of her mouth up gently. "I want you to smile again, baby," he whispered. "C'mon. Smile for your loving Mr. J. I'll tell you your favorite joke, as long as you promise to smile. You promise, Harley?"

She didn't respond. "This gag ain't just gonna make you smile," he murmured. "It's gonna make you laugh. I guarantee it. It always makes me laugh hysterically, 'cause it's just hilarious. Quite the joke. Maybe the best joke I ever told. You wanna hear it, baby? Here it is."

He bent gently over her, and whispered in her ear, "I love you, Harley Quinn."

Then he laughed madly, gathering her body into his arms and cradling her gently against his. He stopped laughing abruptly when he heard a soft sigh and felt a faint movement in his arms. "I love you too, puddin'," whispered a familiar voice.

Joker looked down into Harley's beaming face gazing up at him, glowing with joy. "Harley?" he gasped.

She giggled, and then kissed him passionately. "You're…supposed to be dead!" he stammered, gazing at her.

"Sorry to disappoint you, puddin'," she murmured, grinning.

"Yeah, it is a disappointment to me, you dumb blonde!" he snapped. "I wouldn't have said all those things if I thought you would live to remember them! It was all a joke, anyway. You get that, right? I was just joking!"

"Yeah, Mr. J," she murmured, cuddling him. "I know."

Bud and Lou's excitement could no longer be contained – they leapt at Harley and began licking her enthusiastically, tails wagging.

"Hey, get lost, you mutts, she's still weak!" snapped Joker, shoving them away.

"No, it's ok, puddin'," murmured Harley, beckoning them back. "If I'm left alone to relax and do nothing, I just feel weaker. Being taken care of makes me feel weak and useless, and I'll never recover that way. I need something to do if I'm gonna get better. And I feel a lot better when I'm occupied, or when I'm being treated a little more…roughly."

She smiled at him. He grinned and then seized Bud and Lou by their collars. "I said out, you mutts!" he snapped, throwing them out of the room and slamming the door. Then he turned back to Harley, smiling.

"You adorable little masochist," he murmured, approaching her. "Only my Harley girl would be shocked back into life by being electrocuted with a joy buzzer. You just couldn't keep away from the pain, could you, Harl? You need it, and there isn't a lotta pain once you're dead."

"Nah uh, puddin'," she breathed, pulling him down on top of her. "Being dead is all about resting in peace. And who wants that? I need my Mr. J to keep on hurting me as only he can, forever and ever. My murderous, manipulative, irredeemable angel."

Bud and Lou were still clawing against the door when they heard Harley shriek, which turned into a low moan of pleasure. The noises continued, and the hyenas shared a look, and then settled down in front of the door, shutting their eyes. It was gonna be a long wait.


	8. Chapter 8

"I don't understand," muttered Hush, glancing from Harley to his notes. "You're supposed to be dead."

He held his stethoscope against her heart again, and his look of confusion deepened. "But by all accounts, you seem to be fully recovered. I…can't explain it. It doesn't make any sense…"

"That's my Harley girl!" chuckled Joker, patting her on the head. "She defies all logic and reason, doncha, pooh?"

"Uh huh, Mr. J," she cooed, gazing at him adoringly. "I'm crazy as a loon."

"Your mental state has very little effect on your physical well-being," snapped Hush.

"Aw, that ain't true, Hush Little Baby," retorted Joker, grinning. "If you weren't nuts, you would never have lost your face."

"How do you look under there anyway now?" asked Harley, trying to peer under his bandages. "Are you all gross and disgusting like when Mr. J took me to see _Phantom of the Opera_? Y'know, he was a murdering psychopath too, which made him pretty attractive despite his face, and he could sing. Can you sing, Hushy?"

"I am not in the habit of doing so, no," retorted Hush.

"Then I don't see how you're ever going to get a girlfriend," sighed Harley.

"Now, now, pooh, as a great man once said, 'the key to humor is surprise,'" said Joker, grinning. "Y'know who said that, Hush Puppy?"

"Aristotle," replied Hush, puzzled.

"That's right! I had time to kill while Harley was sick," said Joker, shrugging. "The skirt-wearing nutjob may not have known much, but he knew a joke when he heard one. And ain't this a great joke? On you, on me, on the world! Harley ain't dying after all!"

"My commiserations," snapped Hush, replacing his tools in his medical bag and snapping it shut. "I know you were probably hoping for the worst. But I regret to inform you that you seem to be stuck with the brat until further notice. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to elsewhere," he said, heading for the door.

"You found Eddie Nygma yet?" asked Joker, following him.

"It's only a matter of time," retorted Hush. "I can wait. As Aristotle said, 'patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.'"

The doorbell rang at that moment, and Joker answered it. "Eddie, we were just talking about you!" exclaimed Joker, beaming. "Got a riddle for you: when people say 'hush,' what does a freak in a green suit do?"

Nygma looked at him in confusion, and then noticed Hush standing behind him, glaring. Without another word, Nygma raced off, with Hush rushing after him. "That's right, Eddie, he runs!" chuckled Joker. "Gotta say, he is good with riddles. If I were a decent guy, I'd go after them and try to help him, or at least call the emergency services. But I ain't a decent guy," he said cheerfully, shutting the door.

He returned to the bedroom where Harley was playing tug o' war with Bud and Lou.

"Wanna play with the babies, puddin'?" she asked, holding the rope out to him.

"Nah, you're the one who's gotta exert yourself, you useless waste of space," he said. "It's obviously for your own good that you're worked as hard as possible, so that's what I'm gonna make you do. I ain't gonna lift a finger from now on."

"You never did, puddin'," retorted Harley.

"Yep," agreed Joker, nodding. "Nice that things are back to normal. If you need me, I'll be in my study."

"I thought you weren't gonna spend as much time fighting the Bat, puddin'," said Harley, frowing. "What about your deal?"

"I never said anything about not making plans to fight the Bat," retorted Joker. "Honestly, Harley, try to understand all the terms of a deal before you agree to it, will ya, you dumb blonde? That's how you get suckered. Now why doncha go make yourself useful and make me some lunch? But let Bud and Lou taste it before you feed it to me – I ain't gonna risk getting food poisoning. I ain't gonna fall for that gag twice - making me think you're dying and then taking away my hope at the last minute. Guess I'm stuck with you now, you stupid brat, so I might as well make the best of it. That's just the kinda guy I am."

He left the room, and Harley gazed after him adoringly. "I love you too, puddin'," she murmured, beaming.

Then she skipped off to the kitchen with Bud and Lou at her heels.

**The End**


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